


Profoundly Notorious

by yassen_the_russian_assasin



Series: Profoundly Notorious [1]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, Kidnapping, research lab, seven-ish at least, sorry I just love all three of these fandoms, the doctors really are horrible, yes they're seven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-10-28 23:24:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yassen_the_russian_assasin/pseuds/yassen_the_russian_assasin
Summary: The scientists were counting on three promising boy heroes. What they weren't expecting was how difficult it could be to manage seven year olds Harry Potter, Alex Rider, and Percy Jackson.





	1. I've Read Your File

Alex woke up with perspiration running down his face. The first thing he did was wonder why he was in a hospital. He recognized the normal hospital-y stuff, like the screens showing your heart rate and vitals, and the blank walls with a single chair in the back of the room. But he’d never had things hooked up to him. They were sticky, like tiny suction cups. Alex reasoned that’s what they were. But how were they being transmitted to the screens by his bed? Which ones were they being transmitted to? 

Alex suddenly realized that he was alone. Ian was in Hong Kong. Jack was... where was she? 

“Jack?” Alex said quietly. He sat up. “Jack!” No one answered. 

Alex started breathing quickly. He was scared. Why was he in a hospital? Where was Jack? Was he hurt? Did he have a concussion? He knew what the feeling was; he’d gotten one during a particularly physical football match. But... no. That couldn’t be right. Why couldn’t he remember...? 

Suddenly, the door creaked open. A head appeared, with scruffy dark hair and sea-green eyes. Then, the door pushed open farther and a boy shuffled into the doorway. 

“Um... hi,” the boy said shyly. 

“Hi,” was all Alex could think of to say. 

“You’re awake,” the boy said, sounding a little breathless.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m asleep.” He started fake snoring. 

The boy laughed, an infectious sound that made Alex want to laugh too. “You’re funny.” 

“I try.” 

The boy paused, then blurted, “Why do you live with your uncle?” 

Alex stopped. “How do you know about that?”

The boy’s face went white. “I—I’m sorry—I just... knew a bit about you, is all.”

Alex nodded. “And this makes me trust you?”

The boy shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. It’s just—you’re the only other kid my age who’s here. And my—my ADHD makes me blurt stuff out like that. Sorry.” 

“ADHD?” Alex asked, distracted.

“Yeah,” the boy said uncomfortably. “My mom... my mom and I just found out about it a couple months ago and...” His face darkened. “You’re not... freaked out, are you?”

“Why would I be freaked out?” Alex said.

The boy shuffled his feet. “Some people—a lot, actually... think I’m weird because of the diagnosis.”

“I don’t think you’re weird,” Alex told him. “You seem perfectly likable to me.”

The boy’s face brightened. “Really?”

Alex nodded. “Really.” 

The boy came over by Alex’s bedside, and held out his hand. “I’m Percy. Percy Jackson.”

Alex shook his hand. “Alex Rider.”

Percy smiled. “I know. I read your file.” 

Alex blinked. “I have a file?”

Percy nodded. “Uh-huh. It’s not that big, just kinda full of words, ya know? About you, and your uncle Ian—”

“He doesn’t like it when I call him Uncle,” Alex said quickly. “Just... Ian.” 

“And Jack, too,” Percy said. “Your housekeeper. Is she nice?” 

“The nicest,” Alex told him. He hesitated. “Percy... how old are you?” 

“Eight,” Percy replied. “My birthday was in August.” 

“I’m seven,” Alex said. “I turn eight in January.” 

“Cool!” Percy responded. “So we’re almost the same!” 

“Yeah,” Alex said thoughtfully. He looked around the hospital room. “Say, Percy... can you tell me where we are? Are we in a hospital?”

Percy shrugged. “Of sorts. They call it a research lab.” 

“Who’s ‘they?’” Alex asked him. 

“The doctors and the scientists,” Percy answered. 

“And what are they researching?” 

“That’s a tougher one,” Percy said, tapping his finger on his chin. “But I think it’s us.”

The boys crept out of Alex’s hospital room and Percy led him to a small room with one bunk bed and a single bed. 

“You’ll he staying with me,” Percy said. “I’ve got the bottom bunk. You want the top or the single?”

Alex shrugged. “I’ll take the top.” 

“You got any bags?” Percy asked. He seemed much more comfortable with Alex now that they had officially met.

Alex shook his head. “No.”

“Great, me neither,” Percy said brightly. “When I got here a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t have anything with me. They just get stuff for you based on your file.” He gestured to Alex. “See? You’re   
a Chelsea supporter, aren’t you?”

“Born and raised,” Alex said. He looked down, and saw that he was indeed wearing a clean Chelsea jersey. But he hadn’t been wearing it before, he was sure of it.   
Percy swung his legs on the bottom bunk. “That’s what I mean. You get good stuff here. Even the food’s good. And I’ve been to enough schools to know that good cafeteria food is hard to come by.” 

Alex sat next to Percy on the bunk. “So, you’ve been here for weeks?” He asked him. 

Percy nodded.

“And there hasn’t been another kid here?” 

“No,” Percy said. “For awhile, the doctors called me First. Cause I was the first kid here.” 

“That’s sick,” Alex said. 

Percy nodded. “Yeah. But the best thing to do is to tell them your name as soon as possible. But don’t get too angry when they call you a number. They just smile when you do that.”

“Good to know,” Alex said. “Reckon they’ll call me Second?”

“Maybe they’ll lose count by the time this place is full of kids,” Percy said hopefully.

Alex smiled. “You, two-thousand twenty-one! No, you! I meant you!”

Percy laughed. There was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Percy called. The door opened, and a woman appeared. “Hello, Percy,” she said. She nodded to Alex. “Second.”

“I don’t know if you knew,” Alex said quietly, standing up from the bunk. “But my name is Alex.” 

But the woman only smiled. “We’ll see about that, Second.” 

Percy shot him a look that meant, see what I mean? and asked the woman, “Dr. Wilkinson, when’s lunch?”

Dr. Wilkinson smiled again. “Twelve minutes, Percy.”

Percy raised his eyebrows up and down at Alex, who rolled his eyes. “Twelve minutes it is.” Dr. Wilkinson looked back at Alex. “I’ll need to see you after lunch, ’kay?” 

Alex shrugged. “If you say my name right, maybe you will.” 

Dr. Wilkinson looked thoughtful. “Hmm. I suppose you could be stubborn like that. Or... you could find out where you are.” She left.

Alex turned to Percy. “I can’t go to see her, Percy. There’s something off about her.”

“There’s something off about everybody,” Percy said offhandedly. “You’ll get used to it.” 

All of a sudden Alex thought of Alice in Wonderland. We’re all mad here. Wasn’t that appropriate? But Alex wouldn’t fall into their trap. And he would take Percy with him: the poor kid had been here for too long already. 

But the first step to getting out of there was to find out exactly where he was. And to do that... 

Alex sighed. “I guess I have an appointment after lunch.” 

Percy really liked Alex. He seemed nice enough. He would probably be fitting in at the lab soon. Maybe the adults would call him his real name by the end of the week. But something was nagging at Percy: did he want Alex to get accustomed here? Did he want to get accustomed here? Part of him wanted to stay here, where the food was good and he was treated normally, not like some freak with ADHD. But... he wanted to go home. He wanted to go home to his mom with her blue pancakes and sweet candy smell. He wanted to go home to his mom’s warm smiles and hugs when he got through the school day without something odd happening to him. He even wanted to—he shuddered—go back to Smelly Gabe, who treated him terribly but was stupid enough to be predictable. 

Here, Percy didn’t know when he was going to have a surprise doctor’s visit with Dr. Crandall, or have to get pulled out of individual classes to do some enhanced enrichment work. He couldn’t even read it anyway, with his dyslexia, but the adults didn’t seem to care. Even if he was picked on at school and he wasn’t wanted by his stepdad at home, Percy still wanted to go back to his house. Back to normal. Back to his waiting mom’s arms. 

That settled it. Percy was getting out of there. And he was taking Alex with him. 

After lunch, while Alex headed off to talk to Dr. Wilkinson, Percy went to the library. It was where he always went after lunch, but he didn’t go to read. He looked to make sure the librarian, Mrs.   
Jáves, was gone. Then, he climbed onto the top of a shelf. He sat there, looking at all of the books, of histories of the lab and fairytales and adventure stories. He would read books like that   
someday. At first, when he’d first tried to read, his mom had really pushed him to try harder. But he couldn’t make the words form. He couldn’t unscramble he letters. He couldn’t string together sentences like the other kids could. Finally, his mother realized that he had dyslexia, and that it was normal that he couldn’t put the letters together. But Percy saw other people read. He saw other kids and adults pour over pages of books and magazines and newspapers like their lives depended on it. And he wished... he wished he had that feeling, of just once—just once—being able to fit the words together. 

Percy sat down on the shelf and swung his legs. The shelf wasn’t as high up as some of the others, which he found slightly comforting. At least, if he fell, it wouldn’t be such a big drop. Quietly, he started humming to himself. Don’t worry about a thing. Don’t worry, be happy. 

Thump. 

Percy stopped. “He... hello?” He called out tentatively. “Anybody here?” 

There was no answer. He saw a shadow flit across the library door, of a small figure. But then it was gone, and the silence of the library was complete once more.


	2. It's Not Rocket Science (It's Psychiatry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex adjusts to life in the research lab and has his first meeting with Dr. Wilkinson.  
Neither of them are happy about this idea.

Alex was confused. This wasn’t okay. The hallways were all empty. Where was Dr. Wilkinson? He always considered himself a curious kid, who could easily find out things on his own, but he’d never been put in a situation like this before. Maybe he could take it like a game Ian had once played with him, a variation of hide-and-seek. 

It had been last year, a couple days after Alex’s sixth birthday. It was cold and rainy and there was nothing to do outside, so Ian went up to him in the sitting room. 

“Hey, Alex,” he said, “do you want to play a game with me?”

Alex remembered that his eyes had lit up at that. Ian had actually wanted to spend time with him. It’d been a miracle! How could he say no?

“A game?” He echoed. “What sort of game?”

“Here are the rules,” Ian told him. “First, I’ll hide. You close your eyes and count to any number you want. By the time you’re done counting, I’ll be in a hiding place. What you have to do is find me.” 

“But... what if I don’t?” Alex had been increasing confused. What if Ian never came out of his hiding spot? What if Alex lost him forever?

“Just make sure you do,” Ian said shortly. “Now, close your eyes and count to a number.” 

Alex closed his eyes, and put his hands over his face. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...” he counted all the way to fifty. When he opened his eyes, everything was dark. Why...? Then, he realized that the lights had been turned off. He looked for Ian all around the house, only relying on his other four senses. Touch. Hearing. Taste. Smell. Alex found Ian crouching behind a laundry basket half an hour later. 

“Good,” Ian said. “Let’s try again, but try to find me sooner this time.”

“Okay!” Alex agreed, and they did it again and again, until Alex could find Ian in less than ten minutes. What he didn’t see, though, were Ian’s small proud smiles when the lights were off and his nephew found where he had been hiding.

Alex shook his head, wondering if he’d missed Dr. Wilkinson’s door by now. He kept walking down the hallway in search of someone, anyone, to help him find the doctor. 

A few minutes later, he saw someone running past in a white coat. 

“Hey!” Alex called. The person stopped, and looked over. It was a man, with close-cropped hair and kind eyes. He smiled at Alex. 

“Hey there,” he said. “What’s your name?” 

“Alex,” Alex said breathlessly. “I just got here today. Could you tell me where Dr. Wilkinson is?” 

The man nodded. “Sure, son.” He pointed down the hall. “Next hallway, first door to the left. Just knock.” 

“Thanks, Dr...?”

“Oliver,” the man replied.  
“Thanks, Dr. Oliver!” Alex said.

“It was my pleasure, Second,” Dr. Oliver answered, the kind smile flitting to a nervous expression before returning again. 

Alex crossed his arms. “You asked me my name,” he pouted. “You could’ve at least had the decency to use it.” 

He took off down the hall and to Dr. Wilkinson’s door, wanting to be as far away from the doctor as he could.

As he knocked, one doctor to another was what Alex thought of. He had no idea that he would be thinking this more often over time. 

The door opened, to reveal Dr. Wilkinson smiling at him. Inside his head, Alex scoffed, Dr. Wilkinson’s smiling. What else is new? 

“Hello, Second,” she said. “Come on in.” 

Alex didn’t say a word as he entered, and saw that the room looked just like your standardized doctor’s office, with the white walls, desk, swivel chair, and long table covered with a white sheet. 

“Just hop onto that table,” the doctor said in a friendly tone. 

Alex obliged, and swung his legs up and down. 

“Alex,” he said. 

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘Alex,’” Alex said, looking down at his swinging legs. “My name is Alex.” 

“For now, your name is Second,” Dr. Wilkinson said firmly, like it was a hard fact that he couldn’t change. 

“But it’s not,” Alex insisted. 

“Stop stressing yourself out, you’ll break a sweat,” the doctor said listlessly. She took a cloth from her white coat and ran it under the tap of the sink. Then, she pushed the hair out of his face  
and held the damp cloth to Alex’s forehead. 

“How does that feel?” She asked him.

“You sound like a psychiatrist,” Alex said repulsively. 

Dr. Wilkinson laughed without humor. “I try.” 

She took the cloth off of his forehead and put it under a microscope. She pressed her eyes to the small lenses and twisted the dials. 

“Is that my DNA?” Alex asked brightly.

Dr. Wilkinson didn’t look up. “What was that, sweetie?”

“My DNA,” Alex repeated. “Are you getting information about my cells from my sweat on that cloth?” 

“Not exactly,” Dr. Wilkinson said, taking the cloth and zipping it into a plastic bag. 

“That’s what forensic scientists do when they have evidence,” Alex pointed out, gesturing to the bag. 

“Mmm?”

“Whenever the forensic scientists at a crime scene find a piece of evidence, they put it in a bag,” Alex said matter-of-factly. 

Dr. Wilkinson set down the bag. “And where did you learn that, Second?” 

“My uncle sometimes lets me watch CSI,” Alex said. “Only on Saturdays, though. He said the Friday ones had too much blood. Lost limbs. That sort of thing.” 

Dr. Wilkinson took her stethoscope and walked over to him. “Really? And did your uncle tell you anything about this CSI show?” 

“Not much,” Alex said. “He let me figure it out for myself. And it was pretty easy, anyways. You just have to ignore the cussing and the ‘what the hell is this?’ ’cause that’s just the unnecessaries.” 

“Take deep breaths for me,” Dr. Wilkinson instructed as she slipped the stethoscope down Alex’s shirt to his chest. 

Alex took deep breaths. When she was done, the doctor typed some results into her computer. Alex watched as his information was packed into the data system. He wondered who had access to it. The other doctors? The other adults? People outside of the lab? Maybe Ian could hack into it. He was good at typing random numbers and letters into the mainframes, anyways. Alex had watched him do it, quietly, one night at eleven o’clock because he hadn’t been able to sleep.

“What are you doing, Ian?” He’d asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Work,” was Ian’s gruff answer. Before he could stop him, Alex had sat in a chair next to him and stole a look at the computer screen. “Is this for the bank?” 

But Ian had waved him away. “Go back to sleep, Alex,” he said hurriedly. “I’ve got work to do.” 

Alex had rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. He still hadn’t been able to get any sleep that night. 

Alex came back to the dreary doctor’s office by Dr. Wilkinson asking him to lay on his back. He did, and the doctor took some notes. 

“Which hand do you write with?” 

“My right.”

“Which eye do you favor?” 

“Depends which one is closed.”

“Have you ever broken any bones?” 

“Once a finger from a bike incident. And an arm from falling out of a tree.” 

“So, you like going outdoors?”

“It’s where I get my oxygen.” 

“Have you ever been to the dentist?”

“Are my teeth really that bad?” 

“Have you ever had a cut infected before?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But I don’t pour unsanitary bacteria into my paper cuts, I assure you.”

“Can you tell me what letters you see?” 

Numbers flashed onto the ceiling. Alex figured there must be a projector somewhere on her desk. 

Alex was fed up with all of the questions. So he decided to do a little experimenting of his own. 

“I see a few,” he said. 

Dr. Wilkinson looked up, obviously surprised. “Which ones?”

Alex glanced up at the ceiling at the numbers. “There’s a T, an H, an I, and an S. Another I, and another S. Ooh, and a P, O, I, N, T. An L, an E, and two Ss.” 

Dr. Wilkinson looked at him, confused. “I don’t see—” she stopped. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” 

As best as he could, Alex shrugged. “It’s really based on your opinion.” 

Dr. Wilkinson gave him a stern look. “That kind of behavior, you’ll find, is not tolerated here.”

Alex sat up, and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then maybe you can take me to a place where it is. Like, say, my home?” 

But Dr. Wilkinson shook her head. “None of that. You’ll find a home here soon enough.”

“But I don’t want to,” Alex protested. Dr. Wilkinson shook her head. 

“I think that’s all for today,” she said. “I’ll help get you down, Second.” 

As she picked him up and carried him on her hip, Alex gave her a specialized glare. “It’s Alex,” he said angrily. “Alex, Alex, Alex! What in that name sounds like Second?” 

But Dr. Wilkinson only smiled as she opened the door with her foot and carried him back to the cafeteria. Alex saw that Percy had disappeared. Seeing the other adults in the room staring at him, he struggled. “I can walk by myself, you know,” he said. “I’ve been doing it for quite some time now.” 

The doctor set him down, and he tore out of the room and back to his bunk. Percy was already on his, flipping through a picture book.

Alex sat next to him. “Is that a comic?” He asked curiously. 

Without looking up, Percy shook his head. 

“Well, then what is it?” Alex persisted, used to being ignored by his uncle and not liking the feeling at all. 

Percy shrugged, still keeping his eyes glued to the page. 

“I’m... trying to read this,” he said hardly, like he was in deep concentration. 

Alex glanced at the words. “What do you mean? It looks easy enough.”

But Percy only shook his head. He stayed like that for a moment, concentrating hard on the words on the page, then he slammed the book shut. “That’s the thing, Alex,” he said, sitting up. “It’s  
supposed to be easy. But I can’t read it.”

“Why not?”

“Because of my dyslexia!” Percy burst out. 

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Dyslexia? Is that where you can’t read?” 

“I can read some things,” Percy said. “Like, smaller words. But not the big ones. I’m not your guy for reading signs on the road or studying for a test. It’s just hard for me.” 

Alex sat back. “Okay,” he said. He climbed back onto his bunk and sat there, thinking. 

That was when he heard the scream.


	3. Percy Talks to A Corpse

“That’s Dr. Vanhallsen!” Percy exclaimed. “Something must be wrong!”    


He ran to the door, and jiggled the handle. “It’s locked,” he said helplessly. “They obviously didn’t want us to check it out.”    


“How would they know that it would happen?” Alex wondered aloud, climbing down from his bunk. “Unless it was planned? Maybe it was one of their experiments.”   


Percy nodded. “Right, right. Maybe... they knew it would be dangerous, so they locked our door!”    


Alex raised an eyebrow at him. “You really believe the best in these people?”    


“Of—of course,” Percy said. “Don’t you think they’ll want to keep us safe?”    


“We’re probably safer at our houses than here any day,” Alex said seriously.    


Percy bit his lip. “I still want to know why Dr. Vanhallsen screamed.”    


Alex studied the lock. “Seems standard,” he said. “Locks from the outside, I bet they wanted it that way. Maybe if we had a paper clip...”    


He turned to Percy. “Have you got a paper clip?”    


“I left it in my other jeans,” Percy said.    


“Do you think there’s anything like it in this room somewhere?” Alex asked.    


Percy looked all over the room, sweeping his hand over the desk. He felt around on the floor, and was rewarded with a paper clip by the vent.    


“Gotcha,” he said, grinning. He tossed it to Alex, who slipped it into the lock and rotated it slowly.   


There was a click, and the boys dove into the hallway.    


Alex got up first. “Where’s Dr. Vanhallsen’s office?”   


“Just down here,” Percy said. He showed Alex the door, and they knocked.   


There was no answer. Without warning, Alex pushed open the door.    


“What are you doing?” Percy hissed at him. “What if someone catches us?”   


“It’ll be worth it to know why an adult was screaming,” Alex pointed out.    


They entered the dark office, and Percy flipped the light switch. Fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating the office. Alex crept forward, noticing what looked like a shower curtain in the back of the office. 

“Don’t touch that, Alex,” Percy whispered. “It could be dangerous.”    


But something was drawing Alex to the curtain. He stepped closer. “I’ll just take a peek,” he promised.    


Then he ripped the curtain aside.    


A boy was sleeping on a hospital bed, with wires stuck to his face and bare chest. A breathing tube was attached to his mouth. Alex noticed that the boy was incredibly thin, his ribs easy to see under his skin. The boy’s jet-black hair hung over his forehead, and there was a dust of freckles on his nose. A screen was next to the bed, with a straight green line going across.    


“I know what this is,” Percy said quietly, pointing to the screen. “It shows a person’s heart rate. When it’s beeping and the lines are going up and down, that’s a good thing. But if it’s quiet and the line is straight, then...” he trailed off, as he and Alex both came to the same conclusion.   


The boy in front of them was dead.    
  


  
  
Percy ripped his hands through his hair. “We’ve gotta get out of here,” he said hurriedly. “Before they come get us!”    


But Alex was still. “That’s why Dr. Vanhallsen screamed,” he murmured. “She knew this boy was dead.”   


“But how did he _get_ dead?” Percy said, his brow furrowed.    


Alex stared.    


Percy cleared his throat. “Erm, sorry, blurting stuff out again. But, um... how?”   


“Maybe he was sick,” Alex said. “They put in a breathing tube; maybe he’d had trouble breathing.”    


Percy nodded. Then, he tugged on Alex’s arm. “We’ve got to go now, before Dr. Vanhallsen comes back to us standing by a _corpse!”_   


Alex wouldn’t budge. “Percy—”   


_“Alex.”_ Percy looked at Alex with fear in his eyes.    


Alex sighed, then began to tug the curtain back into place.    


That was when the boy sat up.   


Percy yelped. Alex swore. The boy looked at Percy and Alex, and screamed. His scream was muffled by the breathing tube, but Alex and Percy still shushed him.  Percy looked at the screen, and saw that the green line was leaping up and down, making beeping noises. The boy was looking at him with wild green eyes.   


“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Percy said softly. He took the boy’s shoulders and sat him back on his pillows. “You’re safe.”    


Alex shot him a look, but he didn’t care. “Can you breathe alright?” He asked.   


The boy looked at him uncertainly, then puffed his cheeks out, like he was holding his breath. Then, he exhaled, and nodded at Percy. Percy took away his breathing tube and set it on a table.    


The boy felt around on the table, and put something on his face. Percy realized that they were glasses, in the shape of circles. There was a clump of Scotch tape on the bridge, like he’d tried to tape it back together many times.    


“I'm sorry, do... do I know you?” The boy asked quietly.    


“I’m...” Percy didn’t know what to say. He’d never talked to a dead person before. “You were _dead!”_   


The boy raised an eyebrow.    


Alex rushed in. “That’s Percy Jackson,” he explained. “I’m Alex Rider.”    


“What’s your name?” Percy asked.    
The boy pushed his glasses up farther on his nose, but didn’t answer. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his bangs to reveal a cut on his forehead. Percy craned his neck to get a better look.   


“Is that a scar? Shaped like lightning?”    


The boy clapped his hand to his forehead, hiding the scar. Then, slowly, he brought his hand down. “Um... yeah. I’ve had it ever since I can remember.”   


“And how long is that?” Percy asked.    


The boy looked from Percy to Alex, and back. “I... don’t know. I guess since I was born. Maybe.”   


“It’s a birthmark?” Alex said.    


The boy hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I got it from... somewhere.”   


“Clear as mud, then,” Alex said, folding his arms.   


“Hey watch it, Alex, the poor kid’s been dead for a few minutes,” Percy warned.    


Alex snorted, and looked away.   


“Don’t be like that,” Percy said, rolling his eyes.    


The boy watched them go back and forth, and asked, “How long have you been... here?”    


“I’ve been here for weeks,” Percy answered. “But Alex woke up this morning.”    


The boy looked at him curiously. “He did?”   


Percy stopped, realizing what he’d said. He shook his head. “No—I mean, of course he did—what I meant was—”   


“Alex got here this morning,” the boy finished.    


Alex went over to him. “Kid, could you at least tell us your name? Or how old you are?”    


“I turned eight in July,” the boy responded. Percy noticed that he kept avoiding giving them his name. Apparently, Alex did too.    


“We’ll check your file if you don’t tell us who you are,” he said warningly. The boy looked at him strangely.    


“My... file?”    


“Yes, your file,” Alex repeated. “You’ve got wax in your ears?”   


“Alex,” Percy cut in. “He’s scared. He doesn’t know anything. Just this morning you didn’t know that you had a file.”    


Alex rubbed his eyes, and looked up at the boy. “Percy’s right. I’m sorry. The thing is, I’m scared too. But we can’t let the adults know.”    


The boy cocked his head to the side in confusion. “The adults?”    


“The doctors and scientists,” Percy explained.    


“Scientists? Doctors?” The boy whimpered. “Why would they need...” Then, his face went white. “They’re experimenting on us.”    


“Twenty points to Lightning Boy over here,” Alex said.    


Lightning Boy gave him a small smile. But it vanished when he asked his next question. “So, if they’re experimenting on us, what will they do once they’re done? When they don’t need us anymore?”   


Alex shrugged. “They’ll throw us back on the streets, I guess. Or if we’re lucky, back home.”   


But Lightning Boy shook his head. “No, no, I can’t go back to Privet Drive. It’s horrible there.”    


Alex raised an eyebrow. “Horrible? What do you mean?”    


Lightning Boy bit his lip. “I... I live with my aunt and uncle. And my cousin, Dudley. Suffice it to say they don’t treat me well.”   


Percy knew the feeling. “My stepdad back home hates me,” he told him. “He drinks and smokes and leaves everything in my room. He tries to take my money and send me off to boarding school.”   


Alex turned to look at him. “Boarding school?”   


Percy nodded. “My mom says she wants me to be as normal as possible, but it... it’s hard.”    


Alex put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Percy, you are normal.”    


Percy laughed out loud. “I’m really not, Alex,” he said. “Weird stuff happens to me on field trips, or during classes. One minute, everything’s fine, and the next—boom! The drinking fountain  starts spewing Coke all over the English teacher.”    


Alex snorted. “That would be funny.”   


Percy went red. “No it wouldn’t! Next thing I know, I’m expelled, and I have to go tell my mom that she has to pay for another school to take me.”    


Alex fell silent.    


“I’ve been to two schools in the two years of my education,” Percy said. “And I’m probably going to get expelled from this one because I’m in this place!”    


But Alex shook his head. “No, you aren’t,” he said in a low voice, “because we’re breaking out of here.”    


Percy smiled. He turned to Lightning Boy, and held out a hand. “You trust us?”    


Lightning Boy looked from Percy to Alex, and back.   


“Yes,” he said finally.    


This time, Alex was gentler. "Tell us your name."    


Lightning Boy bit his lip again, and sighed. “Harry Potter,” he said.    


“Well, Harry Potter,” Percy said, “welcome to the research lab.”

They shook hands.    


Harry looked glumly around the hospital room. “Guess I’ll be here for awhile,” he said.   


“Hey, think positive,” Percy said. “We’ll show you around. Even Alex hasn’t gone farther than Dr. Wilkinson’s office yet.”    


“Yeah, we’ll have fun,” Alex promised. “A few doctors won’t take over us, now will they?”    


Harry gave them a big smile, showing a total of four missing teeth. Percy stared, horrified. Alex thought it was funny.    


“Let’s get out of here,” he said, the smallest grin escaping him.    


The two boys helped Harry out of the room, and down the hall to their bedroom.   


  
Dr. Vanhallsen zoomed in on the security camera footage. “Did you see that?” She asked. “They’re all chums now, faster than you can say carbon monoxide.”   


“That’s the thing about second graders, Dorrine,” Dr. Crandall said, washing his hands. “They make friends with everyone they meet. It’s quite comical, really. The results here are off the charts.”   


“Do you think we made a mistake, bringing the Potter boy here?” Dr. Wilkinson asked.    


Dr. Crandall shook his head. “Absolutely not. He’s got to be able to mingle with the other two boys so we can run some more tests. It’s crucial to the examination.”    


“How was Rider’s, anyway?” Dr. Vanhallsen asked. “The check-up you had with him after lunch?”    


Dr. Wilkinson rolled her eyes. “Exactly how I expected,” she answered. “We’ll have to teach him a little lesson tomorrow—to, as you Americans say, show him who’s boss. He needs a kick in the head every so often.”   


“Jackson wasn’t much different,” Dr. Crandall noted. “When I first met him in my office, he tried not to show any emotion. Naturally, he failed, but it was quite interesting to see how much he accomplished.”    


“You’ll be meeting with little Alex weekly, then?” Dr. Vanhallsen asked.   
Dr. Wilkinson nodded. “Daily, if he’s as much as a loose cannon as I think he is. Hopefully we’ll be able to teach him obedience by the end of the month.”    


The doctors laughed, the humorless sound filling the office. Dr. Vanhallsen looked in the corner, to where a man was staring out the window.    


“Dr. Oliver, what in Heaven’s name are you staring at?”   


Dr. Oliver looked back at her, and smiled. “Oh nothing, Dorrine. I’m just thinking.”    


“About what?” Dr. Vanhallsen asked. “You can’t possibly be depressed, your subject has just arrived. Shouldn’t be too hard to break, by the look of him.”   


Dr. Oliver’s lip twitched into a broader smile. “That remains to be seen.”


	4. Alex Learns His Manners

Harry quickly got used to Alex and Percy's company. In fact, he even got to enjoy it. He'd never had a friend before, so it was all new to him. The closest thing he'd ever gotten to a friend was his cousin Dudley, but Dudley had never held the door for him to the cafeteria, and Dudley hadn't ever asked if he was alright when he was being more quiet than usual. It was the little things about Alex and Percy that Harry noticed and appreciated. That day, Alex and Percy became closer to family than the Dursleys had ever been.

There were some cons among the pros, though. As he passed all the adults in the halls, they all greeted him with a nod of their head and a curt regarding of, "Third." Percy quickly explained that this was the adults' pet name for him, as he was the third kid to show up at the lab. All Harry had to do was tell him his real name every time it happened, but his nature was to be quiet and shy, so it didn't come easily for him.

Alex, however, took the opportunity to shout at the adults whenever he could. "It's Alex, you morons! A-L-E-X, you hear? My name is Alex!" Harry laughed every time Alex did this, which only made the other boy want to do it more. Percy had earned the somewhat respect of the adults weeks before, so they called him by his real name. But he didn't hesitate to whisper in Alex's ear every time he was called Second, "You don't even bother _anymore..." _

The next morning, there was a knock on the door of the boys' bedroom.

"Breakfast!" Dr. Carson cried in a sing-song voice. Harry sat up in bed, and put on his glasses. He half-expected to have woken up in his cupboard under the stairs, and that the lab—with Alex and Percy in it—had all been a dream. But Dr. Carson coming in with a tray of pancakes and bacon and eggs extinguished that thought. Percy clambered out of bed. "Food!" Alex was still asleep, his hand clenching his pillow so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Harry cast a confused glance as Percy, who had shoveled eggs into his mouth as soon as Dr. Carson had left.

"Oh," Percy said with his mouth full. He swallowed, and continued, "I suppose it's the jitters of sleeping in a different place for the first time."

"Reckon we should... wake him?" Harry asked quietly.

"'Course," Percy said, taking another forkful of eggs. "We'll do it before the breakfast runs out." At the mention of breakfast, Harry looked down at the tray of food before him. He thought for sure he was dreaming. He was allowed to eat that? Was this some sort of trick?

Percy noticed his hesitation. "You don't expect me to eat this all, do you?" He asked.

"Come on, Harry, have you ever had proper food before?" Harry shook his head. "Not much of the proper kind, no," he replied honestly.

"Well, usually, when us Americans have food put out in front of us, we don't stare at it like it's from another planet. We pick up our utensil," Percy said, demonstrating so with his fork, "scoop some of the food onto said utensil," he plowed his fork into the eggs, "bring it up to our mouths, and shove it in." Percy did so, and said with a mouthful, "Then we chew, and swallow." He gulped. "Easy, right? You try."

Harry looked at him haughtily, wanting to say that he'd eaten before, but decided to not waste his words and eat as much as he could.

"There we go!" Percy exclaimed as Harry reached for a second piece of bacon. "Bravo, I must say, such a splendid performance!" Harry glared at him, but proceeded to eat his bacon.

Ten minutes later, Alex woke up. "What time is it?" He asked groggily.

"I dunno," said Percy. "But would you get down here and eat, your pancakes are getting cold."

Alex sat up. "Pancakes?" He climbed down from his bunk and ate so fast that Harry could barely keep up with him. When he finally sat back, he glared at the two of them. "Bloody 'ell, you two, this stuff is stone cold."

"Well you could've woken up sooner," Percy pointed out.

Alex looked ready to lunge at him.

"Besides," Percy said, "I would've eaten it all, if they'd been blue."

Alex swallowed. "You would've eaten the lot if they were _blue_? Did I hear that right?"

Percy nodded. "My mom always makes blue food. Blue pancakes, blue waffles, and she always brings home blue jelly beans for me. It's our little joke—food can be blue. Percy can survive school. Those little miracles in life."

Alex laughed. "Blue food. Sure. Why not?" Alex turned to Harry. "He keeps getting weirder by the hour eh, Lightning Boy?"

Harry smiled at that.

Alex looked at Percy. "So, what's the plan for today?" He asked. "Are we gonna hit the library before lessons, or—?"

"Or will Second come meet me in my office at 10:30?" came a voice from the doorway.

Alex groaned. "Not you again," he said.

The woman in the doorway smiled thinly. "It's me again," she said, a touch of amusement in her voice. "And I have the intention to teach you some respect, Second."

"But I don't wanna," Alex protested. "It's a free country!"

The woman came over to crouch next to him, and caressed the side of his face with her hand. "I know," she said, "but you'll have to learn to cooperate with me to gain your freedom."

Alex noticeably shuddered at her touch, his glare wavering for a split second. But it was all the woman needed to smile again. "I will see you at 10:30, Second," she said, crossing to the door and gently closing it behind her.

"Who was that?" Harry asked as soon as the door closed.

"Dr. Wilkinson," Percy answered, watching Alex intently. "You okay, Alex?" The boy was touching the place where Dr. Wilkinson had stroked his face, an empty look in his eyes.

"Jack," he said, the single word coming out choked and broken. "Jack... used to do that to me every time I needed to calm down. And I always did. She was the only person that could make me calm like that. And that—that scientist won't replace her. _Ever." _

"But Alex," Percy said, treading lightly, "you still have to go to her office at 10:30."

Alex shook his head. "I can't," he said. "The last time, she promised that she would tell me exactly where I was. And she didn't tell me anything. There is no way something good is going to come out of this visit. So what's the point in even going?"

"Alex," Harry said softly, "I really don't think you have a choice. Think of all the terrible things Dr. Wilkinson could do to you. She could hurt Jack. She could hurt you. But if you go to her office today, you'll at least know what she's capable of. And maybe you could prepare for it, for the next time." Alex looked at him, and Harry saw a single tear run down his face. Alex quickly swiped it away, clearly embarrassed that it had even been there. But Harry reached out to touch his arm. "And you'll come back to us, Alex," Harry told him. "Right after that meeting, promise us you'll come running back to us and tell us every detail. Because we'll be here. Okay?"

Alex hesitated, then nodded. When Alex stood up, Percy scooted over to Harry. "You're a miracle worker," he whispered. "When Alex is mad, he could end up throwing something. But you made him okay again. It was like... like magic."

Harry shrugged. "I just told him whatever I tell myself whenever something bad happens to me. There's always a safe place to come back to."

* * *

Alex felt just like the people in horror movies. Stepping into the scene of the crime, where it's dark and cold and creepy, and just waiting for a monster to pop out of the shadows to snatch you up and suffocate you in the chilly empty air.

Alex shivered. That visual definitely wasn't helping his situation.

He approached Dr. Wilkinson's door, and raised his fist to knock. But there was no answer. Alex looked at a clock up ahead. It was 10:30 on the dot. Where was she? Slowly, Alex pushed open the door and stepped inside. The lights were off. The equipment made strange shapes in the darkness. Alex called out for the doctor, but there was no answer. Alex reached for the light switch on the wall, groping in the blackness. But was it there? Was it activated by sensors? Cautiously, Alex waved his arms around. But nothing happened.

"Dr... Dr. Wilkinson?" Alex called again.

Then, the lights were turned on.

He felt a rough material being wrapped around him, working from his feet up to his neck. Alex's breath caught in his throat—_what was happening?_ Rough hands grabbed at him, but he couldn't make a move to fight against them.

"Be careful, he's a struggler," said a voice overhead. Alex knew it. It was Dr. Wilkinson's. Alex tried to cry out, but a thick piece of duct tape was stretched across his mouth. He squirmed, but the material—was it rope?—didn't budge.

Alex was scared. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not yet, anyway. He wasn't ready. _He wasn't ready!_ Dr. Wilkinson had to make it stop, she had to. Carefully, he was laid onto the table. Alex tried to squirm again, but hands held him in place.

Alex saw Dr. Wilkinson's face as she looked down at the frightened little boy. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly. "You're still safe. All we're doing is taking precautions. I promise."

Precautions? Alex didn't know what she meant. Did she think he was dangerous? Was he dangerous? He didn't know what to think anymore.

"Now, I'm going to take the duct tape off," the doctor continued in her soft tone. "I'm asking you to not make a sound. Or there will be consequences." As best as he could, Alex nodded. Dr. Wilkinson peeled the tape off of his mouth, and Alex didn't say anything.

"That's better," Dr. Wilkinson said, smiling. "We'll teach you things yet, won't we? Now I'm going to secure your arms to the table. It won't hurt, I'm just making sure you won't fall off, okay?"

"Okay," Alex said, his voice hoarse. Dr. Wilkinson spread his arms out onto the table, and kept them stationary with strips of hard, thick cloth. Alex's arms felt numb. He was more scared than ever. "You'll see that your legs are also secured, so you can't fall off," the doctor told him. "And I ask you to please keep still." She went away for a moment, and Alex craned his neck to see that she was wheeling over a cart with metal instruments on it.

Alex gulped as he saw scalpels and knifes and other sharp objects. They glinted in the light. Dr. Wilkinson took a pair of gloves from her white coat pocket, and slipped them on. Slowly, she ran her hands along the instruments with loving care. But she didn't select any of them. Instead, she picked up a cotton swab and dipped into a container of liquid. She brought out the swab and placed it gingerly on one of Alex's fingers. It stung as the liquid met with the a on Alex's finger. Alex bit his tongue to keep from crying out. Dr. Wilkinson pushed harder on the swab, watching him closely. "Does it hurt?" She asked him. "

No," Alex lied as best as he could. But Dr. Wilkinson didn't believe him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Alex said, as she pushed down harder on the swab.

"Completely sure?"

_"Yes,"_ Alex said again. Dr. Wilkinson held the swab to his cut for a moment longer, then took it off.

She sealed the swab into a plastic bag. "I would've thought that you would take me seriously, Second," Dr. Wilkinson said somberly. "I gave you three chances. But you give me no choice." The doctor took what looked like a wooden paddle from a drawer in her desk. She approached Alex, and held the paddle to each side of his face. Then, without warning, she slapped him with it. Alex's cheek stung. He felt his eyes begin to water. Dr. Wilkinson turned his face over and slapped the other side. Still, Alex made no sound as his cheek smarted.

Dr. Wilkinson put the paddle away. "I didn't want it to come to this," she said. "You're so capable of doing the right thing, Second. Let's try again." She took out a syringe.

"You—you said you wouldn't hurt me," Alex choked out.

Dr. Wilkinson loaded the syringe from another container. "I know," she said, the ever-present smile on her face. "But this is just a prick."

Alex squeezed his eyes shut as she pushed the syringe into his skin. He felt a flood of nausea hit him almost at once, and looked down to the see that the syringe was still in his arm. Dr. Wilkinson taped it in place.

"What are you—?" But Dr. Wilkinson put a finger to her lips to silence him. "It'll hold for just a few minutes," she told him. "By then, we'll have a little work done." Alex felt sick. He eyed the syringe with a venom of his own, wishing that his glare would make it melt away. He was filled with hatred for the doctor by every passing second, and she gave him another patronizing smile.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, Second," Dr. Wilkinson said, slowly untying his body so only his ankles and arms were secured to the table. Then, she folded her hands and looked down at him. "What school do you go to?"

Alex was confused. What kind of question was that? "Um, primary," he answered.

Dr. Wilkinson shook her head. "No no no, that's not what I asked." She moved to her computer. "Do you want me to bump up the serum—?"

_"No!"_ Alex shouted. His hands were shaking so badly.

Dr. Wilkinson looked back at him. "No? Well, it doesn't really look like you don't want me to. In fact, you're practically begging—"

"Brookland!" Alex blurted. "Brookland primary, okay? That's--that's where I go--" 

The doctor nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. "There's an answer. The next step is to say it politely. Repeat after me: 'I go to Brookland School, Dr. Wilkinson.'"

Alex glared at her, but when she moved again towards her computer, he grumbled, "I go to Brookland School, Dr. Wilkinson."

Dr. Wilkinson smiled. "Good, good, we're making progress. Here's another question: Where is Ian Rider right now?"

Alex wracked his brain. Where was he again? "Er, on a work trip."

Dr. Wilkinson tsked. "Dear me, Second, do we really need to go through this again?" She moved to her computer, and, before Alex could stop her, punched in a few numbers.

Alex clenched his teeth as his nausea doubled. "Hong Kong!" He yelled. "He said he was going to Hong Kong, but that's all I know, I swear!"

Dr. Wilkinson nodded. "Hong Kong. Interesting. Can you go through that answer one more time for me, but in the way that we practiced?"

Alex glared daggers at her. "He's in _Hong Kong_, Dr. Wilkinson." Dr. Wilkinson's smile got wider. "Very good, that was spectacular. Now, I have one more question for you. It's about your young friend Third."

Third? Alex wondered. Why would she want to know about Harry?

"How did he get his lightning scar?"

Alex gaped at her. "I—I don't know," he said. He really didn't. He didn't even think Harry knew.

Dr. Wilkinson raised an eyebrow. "You really don't?" She asked. Alex shook his head. "Let's swap that for a different question, then," the doctor said, unfazed. "Your housekeeper, Jack Starbright. Does she care for you?"

The question hit Alex like a slap in the face. "What... what do you mean?"

"Jack," Dr. Wilkinson said slowly. "Does she really love you?"

All thoughts of tolerating the doctor's games, or being scared of the syringe, flew out of Alex's brain. She'd already insulted Jack once. He wasn't going to stand for it a second time. "Of course she does!" He exploded. "What are you talking about? Of course, you don't know what it's like to be loved, because no one has ever loved you! Because no matter how much of a doctor you may think you are, you'll always be so—so sick!"

"That's enough, Second," Dr. Wilkinson said quietly. She punched in more numbers into her computer, and the serum in Alex's system tripled, then quadrupled as Dr. Wilkinson put in more numbers.

Alex started shrieking. He screamed so loud his throat was sore. "Stop! Make it stop! Please! _No!"_

And it was gone. Dr. Wilkinson slid the needle from Alex's skin, and put it in yet another plastic bag. "I think that's enough for today, Second."

But Alex stared, empty, at the wall, even after Dr. Wilkinson released his bonds. Dr. Wilkinson went over to him and whispered in his ear. "If you don't go now, I'll have to carry you again, Second."

Stomach roiling, eyes haunted, Alex looked up at her. "My name is Alex," he said.

Then, he dashed back to his bedroom...

...and promptly crashed to the floor.

Harry and Percy rushed to his side. Alex could barely focus on them. Distantly, like coming from the end of a tunnel, he heard their voices.

"Alex! Are you all right?"

"Speak to me, dude!" "

Come on, we need you!"

"Alex!"

Alex rubbed his eyes, and gingerly sat up. "I..." he managed, but he started coughing.

Harry was watching him intently. "What did that woman do to you, Alex?"

Alex coughed again. "She—kept asking me questions. She tortured me and put a serum in my blood. It made me feel sick. I feel like I'm gonna hurl."

"Back it up!" Percy called. "I don't need you spewing all over me."

Alex coughed some more, then sneezed. "We need to get him to a hospital," Harry said quietly. P

ercy looked at him like he was insane. "Lightning Boy, in case you haven't noticed, this _is_ the hospital. We can't take Alex anywhere if Dr. Wilkinson treated him this way."

Harry grabbed Alex's arm. "Come on," he whispered. "Alex please, please get better. I need you to get better. _Please."_

Alex looked into the boy's hopeful green eyes. He gave him a small smile. "Well, since you said please," he said weakly. He coughed once more.

Harry sat back, disappointed. All of a sudden, the pain cleared. Alex stopped coughing.

"Guys," he said, his voice clearer. "Guys!" Both boys looked at him, and Alex stood up. "I—I'm not sick anymore!"

"But... how?" Percy asked.

Harry was looking at his hands. "It was me," he whispered.

"_You_?" Alex repeated. "What do you mean, it was you?"

"Weird stuff happens to me," Harry said quietly. "When I'm at school, at Privet Drive... whenever I'm around, something strange happens."

"Like what?" Percy said.

Harry shrugged. "I once was—erm—getting chased, and I fell. I got super scared, and... maybe it was the adrenaline, but—I started to run really fast. And a different time, I was trying to hide somewhere, and I—uh—ended up on top of the roof."

"Wicked," Alex said.

"My aunt says... some people a while ago were like me. But those people were bad. So I don't wanna be like those people." Harry looked down at the floor. He obviously didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Percy put a hand on his shoulder. "You're not a bad person, Harry," he said. "You're just... special."

Harry smiled at that. The door opened. A man walked in. "Percy!" He exclaimed. "How are you?"

Percy smiled at the man in the doorway. "Hi, Dr. Crandall."

Alex didn't like the look of Dr. Crandall at all. His lab coat was crisply starched, a gleaming white that looked unreal; his hair was closely cut, his face clean-shaven. He was the kind of man who knew his business and knew it well. Dr. Crandall put his hands on Percy's shoulders and said, "I heard one of your little buddies got himself a hard appointment today."

Percy looked up at him. "What, you mean Alex? What was the deal with that, anyway? He didn't do anything wrong! Unless I missed something. But I didn't. So he shouldn't have gotten punished!"

Dr. Crandall shook his head. "I'm afraid that's between Second and Dr. Wilkinson."

He turned to Alex. "Isn't that right, Second?"

Alex tilted his chin up to look right at the man. "Yes, Dr. Crandall."

Dr. Crandall was visibly impressed. "And I'm _sure_ she had fun with you."

As he turned to leave, Alex called, "And by the way, Dr. Crandall—" The man looked back at him "—the name is Alex."

Dr. Crandall left. Percy turned back to Alex. "Tell us every detail of what happened. What questions did she ask? How'd she torture you? What did you tell her?"

By the time Alex was done explaining his ordeal, Percy's eyes were wide and Harry's face had gone pale. "Why... why did she ask about me?" Harry said softly.

Alex shrugged. "I dunno." He brought his arms around his knees and hugged them close to his face. "I just... I don't want to go to her office again. And if she makes me, I'll try and fight her off. I'm not stepping into that place again for as long as I live."

Percy looked at the clock. "It's lunch time," he remarked. "What could possibly go wrong?"

Alex stood up. "You take that back because we all _know_ something terrible is going to happen at lunch."

Percy grinned. "Well that's what makes it _interesting_!"


End file.
